


Going Steady

by nymja



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Tumblr fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5518229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymja/pseuds/nymja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I talked to Chewie about it. We’ve decided that I’m not gonna wait for you to ask me.” There’s definitely a little drunken slur to his words.</p><p>--</p><p>The proposal (and marriage) of Han Solo and Leia Organa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Steady

They’re well into celebrations when _it_ happens. The Resistance has just earned a major victory against the one of the Empire’s leftover pocket cells—the one calling them the First Order or some other nonsense—and Leia is actually allowing herself some time off. Her face is delightfully warm as she sips her wine (Corellian, but it’ll do) and listens to a story Wedge is telling her about one of his training days.

Han slides onto the bench next to her with just the smallest of stumbles. She watches him out of the corner of her eye, but doesn’t give him the benefit of full acknowledgement. He sits, squaring back his shoulders and he _preens._

And he keeps preening. Obviously expecting her to turn around. Wedge glances at him over Leia’s shoulder, and she smiles at him.

“Hey.”

Wedge gives the tinniest of grins back. Han is too easy, sometimes.

“Hey, General Princess.”

Leia shoots Wedge a look that she hope conveys _He’ll do this all night_ before moving to face him. She tilts her head.

“Yes?”

Han is grinning. He puts one elbow on the table and leans on it. “Go ahead and ask me.”

“Ask you what.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’ve been dying to do it for a while now.”

Her eyebrows raise. She’s pretty sure he’s either too drunk to function or has received a jolt electricity from one of the Falcon’s faulty wiring patches.

Han is looking less _preening_ now and more annoyed. His words come out very slowly—patient. “Leia, don’t worry, I’ll say yes.”

She rolls her eyes, turning again to face Wedge. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, moon jockey.”

She feels, rather than sees, Han raise a finger. Puff up like an agitated pylat bird. And storm away.

\--

He comes back twenty minutes later. This time, Leia’s alone—enjoying the quiet he’s about to ruin.

“I talked to Chewie about it. We’ve decided that I’m not gonna wait for you to ask me.” There’s definitely a little slur to his words.

This again. Leia slams what’s left of her wine like a shot. “Ask me _what_ , Han?”

“Just. Stop moving.”

“I’m sitting.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Okay. Here it goes.” He wobbles a bit before he gets down on one knee.

She doesn’t like where this is going.

“General Princess Leia Organa, will you—“ he _hiccups,_ and grabs her hand. His brown eyes are warm and his face looks sincere—it’s enough for her to almost overlook the fact that he’s acting like a complete Ronto right now, “—marry me?”

“No.”

“ _What_?”

“NO.”

“You can’t say no!”

“I just did.”

“Well why not?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“Why’s that got to matter?”

“ _Nice_ men,” she says pointedly, withdrawing her hand, “Don’t propose drunk.”

He points a finger at her. Puffs out. And storms off with a little less grace than usual.

\--

Han comes back an hour later. By then she’s on her fourth glass of wine. Something about getting proposed to by Han Solo has inspired her to drink quickly and intensely.

“Look. Just ask me.”

“Ask you what.”

“You know what!”

“No!”

He storms off.

\--

He comes back a minute after that.

“Please?”

“No.”

He puts his hands on his hips, glaring down at her. “Why not-“ she opens her mouth and he tilts his head, “ _Besides_ drunk.”

She shrugs.

His jaw drops. “That’s it?” He _shrugs,_ “Really?”

“I don’t need a reason.”

“I’d like one!”

“Why don’t _you-_ “ and now _she_ gets to point, “-tell me why we _should_ get married.”

He drops into a seat next to her. “Look it’s just. It’s what we should do, alright.”

“Why.”

“I kinda like you, you know.”

She snorts. He grins.

His voice goes softer, “I think you kinda like me too.”

Leia voice matches it. “Sometimes.”

He leans in a little. “You don’t think it’d be fun? Me and you?”

“We’re already me and you.”

“You know what I mean. Me and you and the other thing.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Look, I’m trying to make a gesture here.”

“Alright. Keep going.”

“I gotta say, I like the idea of seeing all this hair go gray.” He lifts his hand to the back of her neck. It’s warm. “And we could throw a big party. Lots of…of birds.”

“Birds?”

“Yeah. Flying around. It’ll be great.” His eyes widen, as if he’s just thought of something _spectacular._ “And fountains!”

Something sort of settles in her. And Leia smiles, resting her hand on one of his legs. “What else?”

“Luke can come.”

“You don’t say.”

“Chewie’ll have to be there.” Han smirks, “The Wookiees throw a great party, you know.”

“I was there for Life Day.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about that anymore.”

“You brought it up.”

“ _Anyways._ We could dance.”

“Do you dance?”

“I’m an excellent dancer. Do _you_ dance.”

“Sometimes.”

“See? Dancing. And maybe flowers or something. And booze. We gotta have booze.”

“Of course.”

“So let’s. You know. Give it a spin.”

He pulls her in for a kiss. It’s slow and unhurried and his breath tastes like _awful_ brandy but Leia’s hands still snake their way up into his jacket. When they pull apart, he has the biggest smile on his face.

“Leia, will you marry me?”

She looks at him. This frustrating, handsome _scoundrel_ of a man she’s found herself with. And she smiles.

“No.”

His brows shoot up and the rest of his face goes slack. “ _No_?”

“No,” she repeats. She slides over to sit in front of him, and puts his arms around her. “…but maybe later.”

\--

“Is it later?”

“No.”

\--

“How about now?”

“ _No._ ”

\--

“ _Now?_ ”

“No.”

\--

“You know you’re gonna want to lock this down eventually. I’m a hot commodity ever since that whole _Death Star_ thing-“

“Not the _Death Star_ thing again.”

“I’m just saying-“

“You’ve been _just saying_ the _Death Star_ for five years.”

\--

“Later” happens a few hours (and many wines and brandies) after. A sleeping Luke is woken up at four in the morning and he half reads, half snores through their wedding vows. Chewie’s there. There are no birds or fountains, though there is a drunk Red group pilot who screams out “YEAAAAAAAH” near the end.

The next morning they wake up in the same bed. Han’s grinning like a maniac and Leia has the smallest of smiles before she rolls her eyes.

It takes Han a week to admit that he’s a married man.  
Leia takes a month. Just to be safe.


End file.
